


Death Row

by Clarx



Category: Life Is Strange, Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Anxiety Attacks, Death Row, Drugs, F/F, Fresh Start, Murder, Mystery, New Job, New Town, Pills, Post-High School, Prison, post-college, something isn’t quite right
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-15 06:22:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28933962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clarx/pseuds/Clarx
Summary: Max Caulfield begins her new career after being selected for a full-time photojournalist position in a new city. After week 1, she receives her first assignment: interview a murderer on death row.Her profound experience with the inmate will flip her world upside down and forever change her life.
Relationships: Maxine "Max" Caulfield/Chloe Price
Comments: 11
Kudos: 28





	1. A New Assignment

****

  
**"Wherever I end up after this... in whatever reality... all those moments between us were real, and they'll always be ours..."**

**“I’ll always love you... Now, get out of here, please! Do it before I freak. And Max Caulfield? Don’t you forget about me...**

“Never.”

…

_Forget the horrors here…_

\------------------

** August 20, 2018 **

The first week wasn’t so bad. She spent the better part of a day sitting through company orientation where she watched an old PowerPoint presentation that appeared like it hadn’t been updated in over a decade. It showed irrelevant scenes about policies and procedures that a minuscule and underfunded budget apparently didn’t have the resources to modernize. The onboarding paperwork for the Fresno Herald was a bit tedious and required way too many signatures just to begin a job. As a new photojournalist for the online news source, Max Caulfield sat through over a dozen mandatory training classes for the remaining four days of her work week without even stepping foot in the organization’s office.

Her new boss, Weston, discovered the freckled girl’s photography skills because of an online blog she was keeping while earning her undergraduate degree. Max attended a small community college and majored in general studies. She never really had a drive to do anything besides take photos, but her parents encouraged her to study while she figured out what she wanted to do with her life. Even at the end of her college career, still nothing interested her besides taking pictures and strumming her guitar. She assumed any artistic field wouldn’t bring in enough money for her to make it on her own, so she started a blog while working part-time for her dad.

One day, a couple months after graduation, on a whim, the brunette applied for a full-time gig in Fresno, California. It was a long distance from her parents’ house in Seattle, but it would keep her on the west coast, which was a big plus. She never really saw herself living that far from her family, but it was an opportunity to finally dive head first into a career. She received an email informing her that she was a top candidate and needed to interview to move towards the next step. Circumstances like this one didn’t come along too often, so she called the listed number and immediately took a phone interview. About ten minutes into the conversation, Weston mentioned how impressed he was with her blog and offered Max a position. He emailed her a preemployment info packet so she could mull it over with her folks. 

Max and her parents combed through the presented information and researched the company as well as the surrounding area. Everything seemed to be in order, and the salary was acceptable, so the 22-year-old called the man back and accepted the role. One week later, she moved into an apartment her father helped pick out in a decent neighborhood not far from her employer.

“Make some friends quickly, sweetheart,” Ryan concerningly suggested after he and Vanessa helped unload the last of their daughter’s belongings. “Friends look out for one another. We’d feel much better knowing you had at least a few people here concerned about your safety and well being.”

 _If it were only that easy. At least I’ll meet my coworkers soon. Maybe a friendship or two wouldn’t be too hard._ “I’ll be fine, Dad.”

“Remember to take your pills,” Vanessa reminded her daughter. “Two-a-day for certain... One in the morning before breakfast and one after dinner, and you can take one if you feel an attack coming on. If you need a refill just let us know.”

“Thanks, Mom. I got it.” Max pulled the prescription bottle from her satchel and squeezed it between her pointer and thumb. She gently flapped her wrist causing the contents from the small container to audibly rattle.

Ryan and Vanessa spent the first night with their daughter to help ease her transition, but also because of how lengthy the drive was between Fresno and Seattle. That first morning, the threesome enjoyed coffee together, then the older two hit the road. Max could tell it was tough for them leaving her alone in a new city. Numerous times, she assured her parents that she could take care of herself and wasn’t a child anymore. They had always been protective of their only daughter, so it didn’t seem out of character for them to hold on a little too tightly. She was thankful for their help but was eager to begin her life and move forward.

The following week, orientation began and most of the training took place over Zoom where she sat in her apartment in front of her laptop for many hours. Other times, she had to sit in a local hotel’s conference room listening to one presenter after the next until she nearly couldn’t take the boredom anymore.

Max had never traveled to Fresno nor did she know much about the city prior to accepting her photojournalist role, so she decided to drive around town after arranging her apartment the first weekend in the new town. She casually drove through the downtown area and noticed there was a water park, a zoo, a prison, and a museum. The art district seemed nice, and the photographer thought it would be a good place to meet new friends and have some tea or coffee together while enjoying the atmosphere. Max was nervous to put herself out there but made a promise to the girl in the mirror that she wouldn’t be so chickenshit anymore. She was at the beginning of her adult years and intended to act more bold and confident even though she didn’t particularly feel much different.

It felt like she was starting her life, which was something she wanted to do for as long as she could remember. Despite being in her early 20s, Max had an old soul and really just wanted to find her place in the world where she could make a difference with her work. She was lucky Weston found her blog and took a chance on hiring someone with little real-world experience.

Driving back to her apartment, she pulled through a fast-food drive through and took her meal back home. She promised she wouldn’t make a habit out of it, but a burger and some fries were exactly what she wanted. After eating dinner, Max called her parents to check in as she did each day then took a shower. She watched Netflix until she couldn’t hold her eyes open any longer, set the alarm on her phone, and drifted into a deep sleep.

Finally, the new week began. She progressed through her typical morning preparations, grabbed a quick coffee, and then she departed for work. Arriving at the organization’s office suite, Max pulled into the grungy parking lot, which was littered with potholes and uneven cracks, and located a vacant spot. She opened the door to get out of the vehicle, slung her bag over her shoulder, and meandered towards the glass double door entrance after walking up the six cement steps leading to the front of the building. It was officially her second week on the job but her first day at her actual workplace.

As the heavy entrance doors quickly swung shut behind her, she found herself in a large room with cubicles in the center and doors she assumed leading to offices, restrooms, and maybe a kitchen or break room around the perimeter. She scanned the area to gather her bearings, attempting to figure out where she needed to go. A dull murmur bounced around the room that sounded like what Max would consider a usual office environment: the clicking of keyboards, several indiscernible conversations in the distance, the copier warming up, and an occasional phone call.

“Max Caulfield,” a deep, raspy voice called out from across the room. She turned her head and pivoted her body towards the far corner, noticing a man walking in her direction. “How was your week of training? Sorry it’s so damn boring. We have rules and regulations we have to abide by for all new hires.” A laminated name badge was clipped to his khaki pant pocket informing her the man was the one who had hired her. He was at least six feet tall, and she could tell he had a muscular build even though his button-down dress shirt hung loose and untucked except in the spot over his badge pocket.

“Oh, it w-was fine. Not too bad.” The brunette forced a half smile yet feared her anxiety was way too apparent. She realized she was nervously twiddling her interlocked fingers out in front of her torso, and the increased rapidity of her heartbeat made breathing a bit difficult. A panic began to stir within her, so she located the bulge in her bag where her pill bottle resided and took a deep breath. Her resolve was strong, as she wanted to get through this without the additional assistance, so she lowered her hand, attempting to manually calm her distressed mind.

_I can do this. I can do this._

“Good. Well, it’s nice to meet you in person. Big fan of your online work.” Weston stuck his hand out and Max obliged. She feared the slight trembling of her arm would be recognized, but her new boss didn’t react as if he noticed. “Follow me for a quick tour then I’ll show you where you’ll be working.” As they turned, her boss placed an open palm on Max’s lower back to help lead her along, which felt a little unnatural and uncomfortable to the girl. Being middle-aged, the man most likely had an old fashioned mentality and the touch was probably innocent. She shrugged it off, assuming it was just his way.

“You’ll find donuts and cheap-ass coffee most every morning. Feel free to grab a bottled water any time you want. The fridge is stocked with ‘em. You can bring your lunch and store it here if you’d like.” The man motioned to the break room as they quickly strolled past. Weston wasn’t taking his time showing the new employee around. It seemed like he wanted to be polite and get Max started off right, but he was super busy and needed to get back to his work. They continued the tour finally coming to a vacant cubicle. There was a marginally crooked sheet of printer paper with her name in big, bold letters taped to the side. “And this is you.”

“Glad you made it, Max,” a new voice welcomed her from across the small walkway on the open side of the cubicle. “The name’s Maria. It’s good…”

“Maria is a damn fine journalist,” Weston interrupted. “I’ll leave you to it. Open the desk drawer, Max, and you’ll find your login credentials. Get settled in and I’ll check on you later.” Before she could say thank you, the man disappeared around the corner and closed the door to his office. Max released a barely discernible sigh then set her bag on the desk and sat down in her new chair. She adjusted the height to a comfortable level and opened the drawer.

“Don’t worry about him,” her new acquaintance suggested, as she approached the cubicle. “Just do a good job and you’ll be fine. You might have to go above and beyond to get ahead, but we all do what we have to do, ya know?” Max nodded and retrieved the piece of paper from her desk. “He told you your first assignment yet?”

“Not y-yet, but I’m ready to dive in.” Max noticed the girl propping up against her desk. She had beautiful, creamy skin and dark experienced eyes. “So, wh-what are you working on?”

“Giiiirl, I’m working on a story about a woman who suffered from amnesia for fifteen years. One day, she just snapped out of it and realized she had an entire family living in another state. It’s the damndest thing. Gonna interview her tomorrow. Maybe you can join us with those camera skills I’ve heard so much about. Show off a little.” Maria bounced her eyebrows up and down then pointed to the screen where Max’s mouse was hovering indicating she should click the login icon.

“Sounds fascinating. I h-hope I get to work with you. That would be swell.”

_Dammit, Max! “Swell?” You’re such a dork!_

She watched as her new colleague giggled then dramatically spun around and bounced back to her work area. Through warm cheeks and a threatening glaze of warm sweat, Max faced her computer, logged in, and opened her emails for the first time. A welcome message from the Human Resources department was sitting in her inbox. It didn’t contain any new information besides an organizational certificate for completing the first week of training. She printed the document and tacked it to the fuzzy side of her small cubicle.

Sitting at her new desk, Max felt a slight relief from her anxiety for the first time that day.

_Okay. I’m okay. This will all become routine after a few days. Maria seems nice. Wonder if she’ll be my friend? Gosh, Max, you even seem desperate in your own head._

The freckled photographer realized she felt parched. All the worrying and uneasiness made her mouth seem arid suddenly, so she stood up, remembering what Weston told her about the water bottles, and made her way to the break room. She realized she was walking rather quickly and slumping downward staring at the floor, so she forced her pace to slow and straightened her posture, feigning a confidence she hoped would help make her feel more comfortable. She opened the refrigerator and obtained the item she came for.

_You got what you wanted. Now just walk back to your desk. Nobody is watching you._

Upon returning to her work area, she plopped down in her chair and saw a notification on her desktop. A new email was waiting for her and it was from her boss. She double-clicked the message and it read it.

***

Max,

Checking to make sure you’ve logged in.

Just received an intriguing phone call. Know anyone at the prison? Looks like someone knows you. Come to my office after you’ve settled for your first assignment.

Thanks,

Weston

***

Max had only focused on her future in recent days, so it was a bit strange to look back. She searched her memories and drew a blank. Fresno was a brand-new place to her, and she didn’t think she knew anyone who had been locked away. The brunette hadn’t even made a friend here yet; she certainly didn’t know anybody in prison.

_I’m as settled as I’ll ever be, I guess. Time to find out my assignment. Everything will be fine._

The photographer took another deep breath, stood from the seated position, and then picked her bag up from the desk. Using its single strap, she slung the satchel over her head allowing it to rest on her shoulder and the bag to hang by her hip. She began walking towards the far corner office with a stiffened false assertiveness in her step. Her chest was puffed and her head was slightly tilted upward so she could hopefully appear confident and assertive; even though every thought in her head was screaming the opposite.

As she approached, she saw the man through drawn window shades even though the door was closed as if to deter anyone from entering. He was sitting behind his desk with one hand in the air motioning for Max to enter. A phone was cradled between his shoulder and ear, and her boss had his feet propped on the desk, tilted backward in his chair.

“She’s here. I’ll hit you later.” Weston ended the call and laid the phone back in its base, then he stretched an arm out with his palm facing upward. “Max, sit.” The angle of his hand informed Max that he wanted her to take a seat in one of the two button-tufted arm chairs that faced the man’s oversized executive hardwood desk.

“I-I got your email,” the brunette softly spoke. “I don’t know anyone in prison.” Max stepped around and took a seat.

“Someone sure as hell knows you.” Weston responded.

“Who? How?”

“All I know is a prisoner on death row hasn’t spoken to anyone in years. Suddenly you take your role here, and she asks for you by name, exactly one week before her scheduled injection date. She doesn’t even want anyone there but you. What the hell does that mean?” Her boss’s words seemed a bit intense, bordering harsh, yet his inflection was that of excitement.

_What the fuck could a prisoner on death row want? Why me?_

“What does she w-want?” A strange, overwrought energy prickled through the girl’s extremities because of the uncertainty of her circumstances. She wasn’t sure which made her more tense; being around her boss or knowing she’d have to face an inmate on death row soon.

“Well, think of this, Max. You have an opportunity to make a name for yourself. Most people have to prove their worth to me, one way or another, before getting a shot like this. Whether it’s just a damn coincidence or fluke, or whatever... you’re going to that prison, and you’ll get all the answers to your questions. In the process, our organization gets nice exposure and you get the chance to slide your career to the fast lane. Opportunities like this don’t come around every day for entry-level photojournalists. Hell, maybe this is your destiny.”

“What? Destiny?” At the man’s last word, Max felt a nostalgic energy cascading throughout her body. Abstract thoughts bounced around in her head but she couldn’t quite make sense of the sensation she was experiencing.

“Earth to Max. You in there? Looked like you were a million miles away for a moment.” The man stood and walked around his desk, coming to a stop behind the seat where the photographer was sitting. He placed both hands on the girl’s shoulders and began to gently massage. “I know this is sudden, and I didn’t want to throw you out there just yet. Hell, you were supposed to shadow Maria for months before I was gonna give you your own assignment. But that ain’t in the cards. Gotta just roll with shit sometimes.”

Pulling away and standing, Max quickly twisted around to face the man. “Sounds good. What’s the next st-step? I just go to the prison and take some pictures?” She felt her voice lightly crackle and knew her boss recognized her hesitation.

_Relax, Max. Just act more confident._

“Pretty much. Tomorrow, you’ll make your way there and interview the inmate. Typically, your job would just be taking photos. That’s what you were hired to do anyhow. With this assignment, you’ll need to get the girl to open up. There’s much more on the line than simple photos. The state is very interested in what she has to say. Since she asked for you personally, this assignment might be easier than it seems. Just talk to her and see what she has to say.”

“What did she do to end up on death row?” Max took a step back, clearly feeling uncomfortable being in such close proximity with Weston. She noticed he had a musky scent that reminded her a little bit of her dad’s beard oil; and she thought it smelled something like leather and cedar but couldn’t be too sure.

“Her true identity is unknown; they’re calling her Jane, for Jane Doe, I guess. That’s why this is such a high-profile assignment. She was accused of murdering a man, then she just... went silent.” Weston shrugged and turned to walk back towards his desk area. As soon as he sat, he continued. “She wouldn’t confirm who she was or why she did what she did, and there were some inconsistencies with her DNA. They found her holding the gun and ballistics confirmed she pulled the trigger. She refused a lawyer but plead guilty by writing a note on a napkin. Very strange case.”

“Oh my dog! Th-that's terrible.”

_Shit, murder?!_

“She asked for ‘Max Caulfield at the Fresno Herald’ saying you are the only one she’ll speak to.” The man used finger quotes while smirking. “Look, kid. I don’t know why she asked for you; it is what it is. I know you’re nervous, but this is a turning point for your life and career. They’ll be talking about it for years. Hell, you might end up famous if you play your cards right.” He chuckled to himself then picked his phone back up and started dialing. “You haven’t had to do anything to earn this but here it is. Just don’t fuck it up, yeah?”

“I don’t th-think I’d like to be famous. Just wanna do a good job. I only hope...”

“That’s what you’ll be doing with this assignment, a good job,” the middle-aged man grumbled, cutting the photographer off. “Anyway, I have a call to make. I’ll email you more details a little later. You’ll be fine, Max.” He propped back up and crossed his legs at the ankles atop his desk. “AYY, Teresa! Got the intel? Very good…”

“Thank you,” she whispered as she backed out of the room and walked down the side aisle back towards her desk. She could feel eyes on her as she approached her cubicle but just ignored them. She recognized that she was the new girl, and a trip to the boss’s office might be somewhat interesting to others.

“Well, shit,” the only other voice Max recognized in the building called out right as she sat back down in her chair. “Got a message that I’ll be on my own with the story now. Would’ve been nice to have you with me, Max.” Maria slid over and sat half-way down on the outer corner of Max’s desk and tilted her head downward in her direction.

“Y-yeah. Looks like I’m headed to the prison tomorrow.”

“If it wasn’t your first gig, I’d insist you do both. Gotta multitask, girl.” Her new acquaintance smiled then hopped down to her feet.

Placing a hand on Max’s shoulder, the reporter looked left then right, and then aligned their eyes so they were locked on one another. She inched her face in closer as if she was about to whisper a secret, placing her lips near Max’s ear. “You should probably do some research the rest of today. One of the worst feelings I’ve ever had during my career came when I was underprepared for an assignment. This time, my advice is free. Next time, I’ll charge you.” She spun around like a ballerina and disappeared around the corner giggling in the distance.

_I really like her. Dad would be proud if we become friends._

Max proceeded to log in to her computer with the intention of research like her peer suggested, Googling Central California Women‘s Prison to get familiar with the institution. She learned about its history and that this would only be the second time they’d put someone to death. She wasn’t sure what she believed about capital punishment but she knew in her heart it felt wrong. That uneasy feeling caused her mind to jump back to the prisoner herself.

After several minutes, she located information about the case and began to read about the incident. There were no photos online of the prisoner, but the story made national headlines at the time. Max was too busy with school during the last few years and wasn’t aware of many news stories. She figured that would have to change in her new role since news and current events would soon become her life.

Max discovered that a growing number of protests had formed around this case calling for true justice to be served as well as reformation of the system. They believed that the eye for an eye mentality was barbaric and outdated, and people should focus on transformation, grace, and redemption rather than taking away another human life. The National Coalition for Death Penalty Abolishment was funding most of the rallies and protest events leading up to what they were calling “Death Day.” Weston was right, this was going to be a high profile experience for her and she hoped she’d be up for the task. 

As additional details emerged, her eyes widened and her heart sank. Her breathing hitched when she discovered where the murder took place. The room began spinning and Max had to take her hand off the mouse and grip the edge of her desk in an attempt to regain control. The prisoner, who wasn’t even twenty years old when it happened, pulled the trigger, killing a man, in Max’s hometown of Arcadia Bay.

She quickly located her pills and forced one down her dry throat.


	2. Secrets

Per usual, she sat in her cell with a book she’d read five or ten times cover to cover as she awaited count time to pass. Counts were mandatory and required all prisoners to be on their bunks at 6 a.m., 11:45 a.m., 3:30 p.m., 8 p.m., and midnight. The timing of the counts was precise, down to the second, yet prisoners never knew how long they would last. As grueling as some of the work was over the past few years, count time was the girl’s least favorite part of the entire experience; mainly because it forced her to feel like she was a part of the community she despised so much. Being the only inmate at Central California Women’s Prison on death row, she was treated much differently than the others 95% of the time... and she preferred it that way.

Most prisoners serving time with the convicted murderer were sentenced to life; they would never have the opportunity to sit in front of a parole board in hopes of earning some semblance of their freedom back. This became their entire existence. Each day, they received three meals, had just under an hour of yard time, and were assigned specific jobs. The established routine, which probably seemed harsh looking in from the outside, gave the prisoners a sense of normalcy. It became their world, and all memories of their pasts faded like fleeting flecks of dust after the first month or so.

Intermingling with the general prison population wasn’t a luxury afforded to inmates in Jane’s situation; not that she wanted to be around the others anyhow. Death row prisoners were systematically broken down, with a complete disregard for their mental state, at a more intense level than their peers. The first week consisted of a solid seven days in solitary confinement, which they called The Box, where the only contact with any other individual came from a ten second window. A tray of cold food, if you could call it ‘food’, was slid in on the floor through a small slot under the door.

Anyone who has gone through the terrifying, soul-crushing experience of being locked up in The Box, understands the mental and emotional destruction that takes place there. The human psyche is not meant to endure long spans of time without being around others, confined to a tiny, dimly lit room with only their thoughts and imagination to keep them from complete madness. It was the kind of experience that was arguably worse than any form of physical torture.

After the first wave of panic subsided, the girl allowed her mind and body to rest momentarily. She fell asleep and, fortunately, she was visited by a man who she missed a ton. Years ago, he came to her in a series of dreams and told her what she needed to hear. This time, he helped calm her nerves, put things into perspective, and assisted in devising a secret plan that would result in the girl regaining her freedom. He visited her dreams several other times during her prison stay to keep her focused and on track, helping her remember and realize there was one person in her previous life that was worth fighting for, and she intended to fight when the timing was perfect.

From the second week onward, Jane was immured in a larger cell with only a shelf of books, a constant humming electrical sound, and a steady rhythm of dripping water somewhere beyond eyeshot in the dank distance. Because of the recent pressure on the California government regarding inmate rights, and thanks to The National Coalition for Death Penalty Abolishment, she had a sink with running water, a toilet, and ten monitored minutes of computer time daily. Once per week, she was even allowed to feel the sun on her bare arms and face; yard time, once the other inmates had left, was brief but one of her favorite moments.

It was the warden’s idea to provide Jane with a laptop. It sort of killed two birds with one stone: appease the growing inmate rights movement so he would be viewed as progressive, and see what the girl would do online; her search perhaps leading to more insight into Jane’s true identity. Having not said a word since before her arrest, the prisoner’s search history would hopefully unlock secrets she’d kept buried deep inside. Unfortunately, she only researched the town where the murder took place, photography, and time travel, rarely deviating from those main topics.

Jane ran her fingers through short, unevenly cropped, strawberry-blonde hair and was still thankful for the recent haircut the warden deemed necessary for all inmates the previous week. As she reached up with both hands, the chains from her semi-permanent restraining shackles clanked and jingled reminding her that she was mostly helpless. Unlike other inmates, who were allowed to meander and mix in general population, the death row prisoner had a much stricter schedule. Her life followed a narrow line with every moment accounted for in thirty-minute time blocks.

As count time ended, the girl looked up from her book and realized she’d had been thinking about her first night in the clink. She’d seen movies and TV shows where the beginning was tough for new prisoners, but she wasn’t prepared for the utter feeling of despair and claustrophobia that washed through her early on. The inmate had experienced the heartbreak of abandonment before, and God knows loneliness was an old friend that knew her by name, yet there was no preparing her for the seemingly infinite number of tears that flowed that first night. She was still confused then about what happened; her memory was spotty at best.

She knew she didn’t really belong in prison in the first place; at least she believed it. She apparently did what she was accused of, as she was experiencing the aftermath of the incident. Evidently, the gun was in her hand still pointed at the victim when it was confiscated. The girl was painfully forced to the ground, handcuffed, taken away, and ended up in a holding cell. All she recalled from that event was the jolt from hitting the floor with all of her weight. Unlike her typically rage-filled personality, a numbing nothingness cascaded through her mind. It was as if she was watching her own arrest rather than actually experiencing the moment. It felt like when she was a little girl; her parents often asked if she remembered a certain thing from her past. She didn’t really, but she saw herself in pictures so it must’ve happened.

The truth was that she did want to kill the man. The things he did to those other girls, including the two that meant the world to her, were unforgivable. She definitely hated him. If circumstances had lined up, she might have enjoyed pulling the trigger. As it stood, she couldn’t be certain she actually did it, though the evidence was undeniable to the courts.

Even though restrained, and regularly reminded that she was currently trapped in her situation, it didn’t do much to deter the girl from her plan. As she considered who would soon come to visit her, a smile tightened the skin in her cheeks. Her heart began racing and her blood pumped in a way it hadn’t in years. A nervous, yet heartfelt, energy pulsated throughout her extremities warming her soul. The secret plan was finally starting, and she couldn’t wait to see her favorite person the following morning.

* * *

Max spent the remainder of her morning preparing for the following day’s interview and photoshoot. After her meds kicked in, she felt a swift relief from the anxious fear that had crept into her mind.

During her research, she recalled names and locations but couldn’t clearly remember many of her own experiences in the tiny bayside town. Like bubbles floating on the breeze, as soon as she’d reach out to grasp a memory, it burst before she could touch it. Max just figured it meant her time there must not have been impactful or very memorable, but she knew she spent most of her childhood in Arcadia Bay.

She moved to Seattle, returned to her hometown for a brief time, then moved again to begin her undergraduate degree which she completed in four years. It seemed like a lifetime ago that the photographer even stepped foot in the place where she grew up, yet a murder happened shortly after she left, only to be discovered much later. The victim was a teacher at Blackwell Academy, and she recognized the name, but no solid memories existed to separate him from anyone else. It didn't surprise the girl that it was tough to recall much of her past. For the better part of the last few years, her main priority was the future; now completely focused on her career.

If it weren’t for her coworker’s insistence, Max probably would have continued to work throughout her lunch. It just happened that a Tex-Mex food truck was set up only a block from the office in front of the largest building in the area, so she and Maria strolled the short distance for a quick bite to eat.

They didn’t speak much as they ambled past the crowd and to the truck. The girls ordered then paid for their meals with hardly a word between them, yet that was perfectly fine with Max. She felt cool around Maria, and that wasn’t a feeling she experienced too often. Maybe it was the idea that she might have a new friend, or perhaps her growling stomach took her mind’s priority. Nevertheless, her anxiety was tucked away and didn’t peek out like it typically would in a similar situation.

Every bench and every tiny round table with an umbrella were taken, so the girls gathered their food and meandered back towards their place of employment. Since there were no spots available near the truck, they would find another space to enjoy their meals.

_This is nice. New job, new friend. I could definitely get used to this._

“Are you worried that someone who killed a man asked for you?” Maria spoke up then paused, taking a large bite of her soft chicken taco, allowing the juices to drip from the corner of her mouth and to the asphalt. Despite having a mouth full, the seasoned reporter continued. “I mean, damn Max, I know journalists put their lives on the line every single day, but shiiiiit. It’s not like you can really say ‘no’, but like, I dunno. That shit’s heavy.” The women stood propped against the twelve-inch-wide concrete railing that surrounded the Fresno Herald parking lot with their food and drinks sloppily placed on top.

Max took a sip of her Cherry Coke to wash the first bite down, then patted her mouth with the single thin napkin she was given with her order. She glanced over at her colleague, whom she desperately hoped she could soon call a friend, and explained, “I don’t know what choice I have. W-Weston also sent me an email saying Jane wants the camera turned off when I’m there. She wants nobody else in the room either so it can be just me and her. Am I worried? Hell yes. Terrified.”

Maria looked around appearing to make sure nobody else was within earshot of the pair. She swallowed her bite, took a quick sip of water, then shuffled closer to Max. “You do know there’s one way you can be taken off the assignment, right? Like, if you absolutely don’t think you can handle it. Weston is reasonable, but you have to go a little above and beyond to get what you want. Know what I mean?” The woman bit her lip and winked at the brunette. “It's how I got the best assignments early on in my career. Spring-boarded me to where I am today.”

_WHAT!?_

Max nearly choked on her soda, coughing several times before gaining a clear breath of air. “You don’t mean… A-Are you cereal?” She could feel her face tighten as she reacted to the implications of what Maria was suggesting. “So, you slept with him? Sorry, but... eww, gross.”

“Keep your voice down, Max. And don’t fucking judge me. I did what I had to do to advance my career. You’ll do the same damn thing if you want to get ahead. But no, I’ve never gone all the way with Weston. He’s married and has two sons and a daughter. I only helped him out a few times several years ago, though I’d do it again if I needed to.”

_Helped him out?! Dammit. That’s fucked up._

“Maria, n-no offense, but I could never do something like that. I want to use my skills and experience to make my way up. Plus, I’m not attracted to him, like, at all.”

“Attraction has nothing to do with it, girl. We’ll see if you keep that innocent shit going after several months working your ass off with little to show for it. We all do what it takes. I’m pretty sure it’s no big secret, but keep your mouth shut about this. I know I’m not the only one who’s used my resources to gain an advantage around here. We do what we need to do... then we do our jobs. It’s all business.” The woman assertively balled up her foil wrapping and slurped the last few drips from her Styrofoam cup. She bobbed her head towards the near corner of the parking lot and made her way to the grey trash bin, discarding her items. After another wink in Max’s direction, Maria dramatically bowed then disappeared inside the building.

_Damn! I knew this job was too good to be true. She’s wrong though. I will NEVER stoop to that level. I’ll prove myself without taking shortcuts. And... fuck that gross shit. No way._

The brunette discarded her trash and followed the woman back inside their office building. When she returned to her cubicle, she noticed Maria had headphones on enjoying music while she worked. The woman bounced her head up and down and craned her neck back and forth mouthing the words as she listened. Max noticed the woman was logged into Spotify, shaking her hips in her chair causing it to marginally roll back and forth in rhythm. She almost made a comment but didn’t want to interrupt or intrude. The younger girl sat back at her desk and resumed researching her first assignment. Besides getting up to use the restroom once, she didn’t leave her desk for hours, as she was deeply enthralled in her work.

At the end of the day, the photographer signed-out the camera equipment her boss listed in his assignment detail email. Maria joined Max on her way out, with a sucker in her mouth, and walked with her to the parking lot. Without relaying any words, she embraced the brunette with a quick side hug near her car before disappearing inside her vehicle. It was a little odd how joyful the woman was; Max figured her comments during lunch would have pissed the reporter off, but she didn’t appear to hold it against her. In fact, she seemed overjoyed for some reason.

Maria backed up then stopped beside the spot where Max was standing still fiddling with her keys and car door. She titled her sunglasses down from her face, showing her eyes as she stared back at Max. “I’ve got my amnesia interview in the morning,” Maria called out from the half-way-rolled-down driver’s side window in her black BMW. “Which is essentially the same time as your interview, I believe. If I don’t talk with you before,” the curly-haired woman imparted, “good luck with your prison story. You’re gonna KILL it. Oh, too soon?” she chuckled. “Just remember that the inmate asked for you. You’re the captain of the ship.”

“I-I’m the… captain?” For some reason, another strange wave of undefined nostalgic energy briefly washed through her entire body.

“Yeah, you know, you’re in charge. Take lead and don’t let her control the conversation.” Maria reached up and swiped a stray strand of obviously dyed blonde hair from her eyes, tucking it behind her ear. “You’re a bad bitch, remember that.” She pressed the tips of her ring and pointer finger to her lips and then blew a kiss in Max’s direction; in a chef’s kiss motion.

“Have a nice evening, Maria,” Max hesitated, awkwardly waving with a loose wrist and an extended arm reaching out towards her peer. She was thankful the blonde didn’t notice her dorky gesture.

_Damn. You don’t have to be a total dweeb, Max._

“Nite nite, hun.” After readjusting her glasses and looking forward towards the parking lot exit, Maria lifted one hand up beside her head and moved her fingers up and down in a sort of twiddled wave. The woman pulled the gearshift down and floored the gas. She peeled out of the parking lot like she didn’t have a care in the world.

_Wowser. Even her wave is cool. Maybe we really will be friends._

Max hopped in her car, turned the key in the ignition, and was quickly on the road. She couldn’t wait to get back to her apartment and resume research for the following day’s interview. Her mind was lost in thought during her drive, so the trip didn’t seem that long.

Before she knew it, she was arriving at her apartment where she was glad to completely let her guard down and relax a little. After an almost-too-hot shower and a small ham and cheese sandwich with chips and a pickle spear, Max picked back up where she left off at work. She was planning to only use the interview questions her boss provided, but there were other things she wanted to know that were not listed. Per his email, Weston seemed to be fine with deviating from his planned questions as long as she brought back compelling information that would both make a good story and appease the government officials who were interested in this case. 

After a couple of hours had passed, and being deeply involved in her work, Max suddenly realized she neglected to call her parents as they had asked her to on a daily basis. She knew they regularly worried about her well-being and made it abundantly clear it was tough to let their only child move so far away. Allowing her to pave her own path through life without being close by was obviously not an easy thing for them. While she was in college, Max still lived at home and commuted to campus for classes. She was very aware of her mom and dad’s need to hear from her, and she felt terrible it was starting to get late without her checking in yet. The brunette picked up her cell and called her parents’ line.

After two rings her mother abruptly answered, “Max! We were beginning to get worried. Your dad wanted me to call you hours ago, but I knew you’d remember. Anyway, how are you, sweetie?” Her dad’s muffled voice grumbled in the background. “Yeah, it’s her, Ryan.”

“I’m sorry, Mom. It’s been a long day.”  
  
_‘Long’ is a damn understatement._

“We were just worried, that’s all. So, tell us about your day.” Max noticed a more discernible background hum, realizing she was now on speakerphone, assumingely so her father could join the conversation too.

“Honestly,” she paused, considering for a moment, “it was great. I have my first assignment tomorrow morning.”

“Oh, honey. That’s fantastic. We’re super proud of you.” She could tell the woman really was delighted by the wavering of her voice.

“Yeah, it’s nice to feel like I’m diving into my career and all. Plus, the assignment revolves around a murder that happened in Arcadia Bay of all places. Crazy, right?” Max heard her mom unexpectedly cough and her father mutter some words she couldn’t quite make out. “I know. I never even heard of anything like that happening in my hometown, but the murderer asked for me specifically to interview her. I was worried about it most of the day, but for some reason, I’m excited now.”

“Max, you can’t!” Ryan shouted from the distance but was clearly audible over the phone. A shuffling struggle seemed to break out on her parents’ side, and her father’s voice was amplified as if he had pressed the phone directly to his mouth. “This is a terrible idea, sweetie. Tell them ‘no’. You don’t have to do this. We can find some other role for you.”

_What the fuck?_

“Dad? No. I-I wanna do this.” Max swallowed hard to push away the confusion and threatening anger. “This is my career and I have an opportunity to...”

Before she could finish, she was harshly interrupted. “Stop! It doesn’t matter what you want. Sorry, sweetie, but it’s true. We... er... don’t want this impacting your mental health. You’re already on anti-anxiety medication and this could severely set you back. I forbid it. Stay the night then come home tomorrow. We’ll worry about moving you back to Seattle later.”

“What? Back home? Uhm... No. I’m still taking my meds, Dad. I’ll be fine. Why are you so worked up?”

“I’m just worried about you, Max. This may sound patronizing, but life is complicated. We’re your parents and it’s our job to ensure your health and safety. You’ll understand one day when you have children.”

“And I’m telling you, I’m fine! I’m an adult doing my... a-adult thing. You have to let go, Dad. You AND Mom. I’ve got this. Love you.” Partially not wanting to hear them smothering her anymore, but mostly because she didn’t want to say anything she might regret, Max hit the end button on her phone and powered it down. She knew there would be messages to deal with later but she didn’t care. She would call them tomorrow after her interview to prove that they should back off and let her live her life.

 _God, they’re unbelievable!_ _I’ll be fine!_

What she said was true, it had been a very long, and somewhat emotional, day. She knew tomorrow was going to be difficult and mentally taxing, so she closed her laptop and fiddled around in her bag, finally locating her pills. After swallowing one down with a gulp of water, she used the bathroom and tucked herself in bed. Her anxiety dematerialized, scattering from her mind, as it typically did after taking her meds, and she quickly drifted off to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for checking out my new story! 
> 
> I have no timeframe for chapter releases as I typically do, so I apologize in advance for any lengthy spans between chapters.
> 
> I hope you enjoy.


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